The Dirk
by Star of the Wolf
Summary: It was something Natsu had learned about Erza long ago: she did not often share her feelings, preferring instead to bottle them up inside where she could suffer alone. Yet he had also learned that there were signs, ways in which someone who knew her well could see that she was suffering. One of those ways was the dirk. The dirk always meant that she was hurting.


**Disclaimer:** Fairy Tail and all characters there related to do not, in any way shape or form, belong to me. They belong, instead, to their respective owners, and I make no claim to them whatsoever. I am merely taking them out to play, and promise to return them before dinner.

**Time frame: **Shortly after Team Natsu's return to Fairy Tail after the events of the Tower of Heaven.

**Author's Note:** Aradel here! Recently I've found myself (maybe just a _"little"_) obsessed with Fairy Tail. And, as is per Aradel fashion, I found that I just _had _to fic something for my favorite character (which is Erza). Unsurprisingly, it kind of turned out angsty. As you've probably gathered, though, this is my first Fairy Tail fic, and as such, I would love feedback on it. How are the characters? How is the style? I'm always open to constructive criticism (just no flames please)! I can only get better if I know what to work on (and what's good too, I suppose, so that I can get a good gauge on what kinds of avenues/styles I should continue with).

Most importantly, however, I hope that you enjoy!

* * *

_Dirk (noun) - a short dagger of a kind formerly carried by Scottish Highlanders (Oxford English Dictionary)_

**The Dirk**

She stood at the window, one shoulder almost brushing the wall, her gaze riveted upon the street far below. Dark red hair hung loose down her back, and her normal breastplate gleamed faintly in the sunlight that streamed in through the curtainless window.

That was where Natsu found her, as she flipped a bone-handled dagger back and forth between pommel and tip, long, slender fingers deftly catching and tossing in a random rhythm. She did not look up as he approached, her attention still fixated on the cobblestone road below, but he knew she had sensed him.

"Hey there," he said anyway, and flashed a grin at her back. She did not turn, and slowly his smile faded. He leaned against the wall, eyes so often dancing in laughter or righteous anger curiously grave as he took in Erza's expression and gauged her demeanor. "So…" Natsu began again, although this time he trailed off along with his faltering smile.

"What do you want, Natsu?" _Flick, catch. _Erza's voice sounded strained, and although she never once took her eyes away from the window, Natsu got the distinct impression that she was glaring at him.

"I just came to see you. Check up on you," Natsu said with a shrug. Erza stiffened. Natsu, sensing his danger, hurriedly went on, "You haven't been downstairs all day. And no one saw you yesterday either." He shrugged casually. "Gramps just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"He could have come up himself," Erza pointed out, tone still hard. _Flick, catch._ "So I ask my question again, what do _you _want."

Silence. Natsu turned his own gaze out the window, and crossed his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the flash of sunlight glinting off of the metal of Erza's dirk as she tossed it again. And suddenly the air felt heavy and solemn, as Natsu's forced levity left him.

"I haven't seen that in a while," Natsu commented, almost off-handedly. "The dirk, I mean." It was not truly an answer to Erza's question, but it was as much of an answer as Natsu was willing to give at the moment.

"Hm," Erza rumbled. _Flick, catch._ She said no more, and heavy silence descended between the two of them once again.

"I know," Natsu said at last, very suddenly.

"Know what?" Erza growled, her tone warning. _Flick, catch._ Her patience was wearing thin.

"I'm not an idiot, you know," Natsu said, and at last he turned to fix Erza with a hard stare. "The dirk tossing. It means you're hurting. You like having a weapon in your hands when you feel..." he hesitated, looking for a word that wouldn't send the temperamental wizard flying into a rage, "not strong," he finished lamely. "It helps you feel safe. Like your armor."

Erza visibly started, and for half a second Natsu thought she was going to look at him. But then she turned away again, and the dirk was flashing in the afternoon sun once more. Natsu gritted his teeth, and ploughed on.

"Erza, you're hurting. I know you are. The dirk means you're hurting. You have to let us help you."

"I have to?" Erza asked, and Natsu heard the biting sneer that was so uncharacteristic of the Erza he knew. "Do not think to tell me what I must and must not do, Natsu Dragneel," she hissed. And then, more quietly and infinitely more softly, "My pain is my own, Natsu. I would not place my burdens on any other…especially not my friends."

"But that's what friends are for," Natsu insisted, and he took half a step toward Erza. "Friends are there to help you. To watch your back, to keep you safe, and to help share your burdens. And we're your friends."

"Natsu…" Erza whispered hoarsely, and once more Natsu was struck by just how different this Erza sounded. How…fragile. How…human. "Do you not understand?" she asked, gaze still fixed down on the road below. "My friends get hurt. They die. They suffer. Please, Natsu…"

"No," Natsu spat, and took another half step forward. "No, that's not true. Erza, you don't have to protect all of us. It's not your duty to keep us all safe. We have as much right to make choices as you. And all of us – Lucy, Gray, Happy, Gramps – have made the choice to be here for you. Because we _are _your friends, Erza, whether you like that or not. Which means we're here for you, whether you like it or not." Natsu crossed his arms and glared, at last challenging Erza to deny the truth to his claims.

"I never asked for this," Erza said. And then she turned, and Natsu saw why she had been hiding her face. Tears were pooling in her eyes, leaking down her cheeks to draw thin trails to her chin.

Natsu felt his stomach tighten and his heart constrict, for Erza, the great and powerful Erza, was not _supposed _to cry. Was that not why he had fought Jellal in the first place? To keep Erza from crying again? Yet here she was, standing before him, with her dirk in her left hand and tears upon her face.

The stillness broke and Erza was moving, brushing past him and knocking against his shoulder in the cramped space by the window. Natsu turned, eyes wide and mouth opening to call after her – to apologize, to shout at her for her own stupid stubbornness, anything – but she was already gone.

He heard a clatter, like steel falling against wood. Natsu looked down with a frown. And there, lying at his feet, glinting disarmingly in the bright afternoon sunlight, lay Erza's dirk. Natsu knelt to pick it up, fingering the hilt carefully as if wary that it would shock him.

But as he stood, Natsu began to wonder just what it meant. For if there was one thing that Natsu knew about Erza, it was that she was never careless with her weapons, and that everything she did, whether in thought or subconscious instinct, had a purpose.

Natsu's hand tightened around the hilt. _We're here for you Erza,_ he thought fiercely. _All of us. We're your friends, and there's nothing in this world that can change that. Ya hear?_

For half a heartbeat, Natsu thought he heard a voice answer in reply as the dirk grew warm in his hand. _I hear,_ it said, even if it did not believe.

But then the voice was gone, and the dirk grew cold in Natsu's hand. And he was left to wonder some more as he tucked the dirk into his belt, and slowly descended the steps back down to the common room to rejoin Lucy and Happy.


End file.
